


One Breath

by 30xf



Series: 201 Days Of X Files [32]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:06:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30xf/pseuds/30xf





	One Breath

It's long past visiting hours when Mulder quietly slips in through the door. That eerie time of the night in the hospital when most of the lights are off, most of the patients are asleep, most of the visitors have gone home, and all you can hear is the infrequent whispering at the nurses station. He thinks I'm asleep, and I almost was. They've given me a pill to help me sleep, and it's made my eyelids so heavy I can only open them a fraction of the way and only with great effort. Either he doesn't notice them opening occasionally, or I'm opening them even less than I think. 

He takes the seat beside the bed. The one my mother vacated not long ago, and only after my sister and I insisted she needed rest. He's restless, fidgeting and looking around the room. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and then sits back in the chair. If he had wanted to talk to me, he would have come earlier. I'm not sure why he's here exactly, but I get the feeling my being awake isn't a major part of it.

Mulder is my best friend. A thought that's never really occurred to me before. We don't officially work together anymore, and yet we still talk or see each other every day. Except for the time I was gone, of course. And with all that time spent together, we've developed a pretty reliable unspoken communication. But sometimes that just won't cut it. I want him to talk to me. I want him to tell me where I've been all this time; what happened to me. I want to ask him how he found my necklace. I want to know why I can't remember anything after seeing Duane Barry's face in my apartment window. I want to tell him about Nurse Owens--or the lack of Nurse Owens. I want all of this, but I don't have much control over my eyelids, let alone my voice. 

I had actually been doing a pretty good job at fighting the effects of this pill. I only took it after my mother left, having had the absurd need to stay awake and keep an eye on her. Once I knew she was at home with my sister, I felt like I might be able to rest. I took the pill, but fought it anyways, possibly just to prove to myself that I could. But now, with Mulder here, I think I can sleep. I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I ended up more comfortable in his presence, than out of it. Which isn't to say I can't be without him. I absolutely appreciate time to myself, but depending on the situation, I just feel better if he's with me. And being in a hospital is one of those situations. Maybe he feels the same. Maybe that's why he's here.

He carefully reaches out and takes my hand. I don't think I could react if my life depended on it, and that's probably for the better. My eyes open just enough to see him lean forward and rest his head on the bed. His thumb strokes gently over my knuckles for a moment, and then stills. I'm not sure which one of us falls asleep first.


End file.
